Ghostman thomasjacksonwalker reviews SAM SLEUTH and the FALL of the COFFEE BARON - By N.L. Belardes

SAM SLEUTH and the FALL of the COFFEE BARON?

At first I cursed A.S. Ashley. Hell, he could be that Pynchon of pinash, that thomasjacksonwalker in a straight man cape and painted on moustache. He still might be. Yet, the ghost himself has resurfaced in blog comments, and, has written his second favor for the artists of Bakersfield.

The cape flutters in the wind...

God knows what sights the poor man may have witnessed driving from the land of tinsel to the land of joey minstrel. If he actually drove up from the lusty southland, that is.

Ah, but I digress. My friend A.S., I take credit for dropping off the final S., which he knows depicts his true nature; anyway, we discussed this particular piece... and I rebelled against thomasjacksonwalker's ghostly prose, but alas, I recognize that there is value in consensus rather than conflict. And besides, thomasjacksonwalker is funnier than city council shit running out of their plugged toilet meetings...

You should have heard my diatribe. A.S. didn't say a word as I came full circle in logic, talking to myself more than to him, sounding reminiscent of Cameron on Ferris Bueller, and in the end stuttering, "I'll go. I'll go. I'll go. I'll go..."

Now read on and look forward to MORE articles from thomasjacksonwalker about whatever he wants to talk about on this site...

~the little red barn that could.
by THOMASJACKSONWALKER

You know how these places work: They’re stupid little dinner theaters that appeal to the silver haired crowd. The theater owners buy a tired old script, plug in a bunch of young amateurs to perform it, and pray the “nostalgia” factor keeps the doors open. Pathetic.



I don’t know what A.S. ASHLEY was thinking when he asked me to come up from L. A., see a play at the local Melodrama, and write a review.

I loathe local theatre. I’m spoiled: I’ve seen “first run” Broadway plays since THE SOUND OF MUSIC; my mother used to torture me by breaking out in song every time I said a word that reminded me of her unrelenting musical library; and my father, a brilliant, frustrated, armchair director. Don’t get me wrong. I support local theater, but I understand it to be only the “teething ring” from which all greatness is born. I still can’t help from being a harsh critic of its obvious flaws.

As I made my way across the grapevine and entered into the boiling bowels of the “Golden Empire”, thunderstorms, God's thermostat set on nuclear reactor, and wind blowing dirt and dust in every direction, didn’t make the prospects for an entertaining evening any better. Bakersfield’s proposed slogan “life as it should be” mocks this metropolis “wanna be”, as I crawled down the traffic choked Rosedale Hwy toward my final destination off of Allen Rd..



There it was. A clean, cute, super tidy, little barn of a theatre (yes, it looks EXACTLY like a barn!). The parking lot was full. People moved hastily to the ticket booth in hopes of a quick exit for the brutal heat. Inside the concession area you saw the bustle of patrons gathering the necessary refreshments and goodies needed to sustain them through the first act. All the servers are actors in the production. Nice touch. Here you could see them made-up, up close and personal, as they sang for their tips like pirates for your pleasure. I took my seat at a back table to watch the play unfold.



The first bit of business was to look over the program for SAM SLEUTH and the FALL OF THE COFFEE BARON, which reads like an EVENING NEWS EXTRA (called, the MELODRAMA MUSE) with the headline: COFFEE TYCOON MISSING!

The Tycoon is a mannequin( ah, real mannequin). And according to the playbill.. .is played by Manny Quinn. The playbill also lists another actor, Harold, “the Owl”, who plays the part of Stu, the “seeing-eye hawk”, for “Fats"(James Mongold), the blind, jazz Trianglist... what a “HOOT”!



Here’s how Harold, the Owl’s Bio goes, “Harold is making his debut here at the Gaslight Melodrama after living most of his life in various wooded regions. ‘Playing the part of a seeing-eye hawk was a real challenge for me,’ Harold says. ‘Mainly because... I’m actually an owl.’ Harold doesn’t expect to audition for any other plays, but is planning on starting a film career. Currently, he’s co-writing a series of cop/buddy films with a woodpecker friend of his...”

Have I lost you yet? Then don’t come see the show. You’re too dense to appreciate it. This show is fast, sharp, and furiously funny.

This work is the virgin brain-child of James Mongold,
co-authored and directed by Michael Prince. The brothers “grin” wanted to do a film noir, black and white “who-done-it” detective story so tongue-in-cheek, you have to wonder how many cans of “chew” they packed in there. Answer: plenty. They manage to satirize everything within reach: the story line, the cast, neighboring towns... even the intermission: after holding stage position from the first Act into the second…

~ACT 2 Scene 1
In the House house, Sam and Maxwell are still squaring off. Chazworth and Winthrop are still on the ground.
MAXWELL: You see you see what happens? I’ve been standing here for fifteen minutes waiting for the intermission to end, and my roast has gone and burned to a crisp! You smell it?
SAM: But you’re not standing.
MAXWELL: How dare you, sir! You like to pick on the handicapped, do you?
SAM: No, I’m just saying,.........
MAXWELL: Shut up! Look, while we’ve been up here waiting for that mousy little girl to finish selling ice cream to all those people, my supper has been ruined! And on top of that, my two man-servants have died! You’re in a lot of trouble, Mister!
SAM: Uh, I don’t think they’re dead.
Suddenly, Chazworth sits up.
CHAZWORTH: No, not dead at all, really. A bit groggy, perhaps. I mean, a dart in the neck is no swim in the park.
Winthrop sits up.
WINTHROP: And getting punched in the mouth hurts too.
CHAZWORTH: Does it, old boy?
WINTHROP: Oh yes, in fact!
MAXWELL: Shut up, you two!
Chazworth and Winthrop fall back to the floor, unconscious.

Ok, that’s all I’m giving you. I’m no “Spoiler”!

There are no “stars” in this production. It is truly an ensemble effort whose loyalties are to the jokes and gags. Michael Prince weaves the characters beautifully and at break-neck speed (don’t blink).



If this comedy doesn't slay you, stick around for the VAUDEVILLE REVIEW! (This is normally where I make my exit; there’s a REAL drink waiting for me somewhere!) Vaudeville Reviews usually bore me to tears, with their stupid comic routines and stale list of classic musical numbers. But not here folks! How about starting off with an ETHEL MERMAN IDOL Competition!? That's right! Male contestants in drag doing their worst impressions of the Broadway diva. Scream! The sardonic humor shifts into high gear for this show’s finale.

That’s it. I came, I saw, I laughed my ass off! Kudos to all at the Melodrama for bringing “Something Completely Different” (Monty Python), and making my visit to this cowtown well worth the ugly ride up here.



SAM SLEUTH and the FALL of the COFFEE BARON (July 21st-August 26th)
THE GASLIGHT MELODRAMA ~Call (661) 587-3377 for reservations
12748 JOMANI DR., BAKERSFIELD, CA 93312

This entry was posted by N.L. Belardes, on Saturday, July 29, 2006. You can leave your response.